


Arrival

by d0g-bless (d0gbless)



Series: A New Breed of Training [10]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Childbirth, Domestic, F/M, NICU, Original Character(s), Post-Canon, Post-Series, Pregnancy, Pregnant Pidge, Premature Labor, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 18:24:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14194995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d0gbless/pseuds/d0g-bless
Summary: In which the Shirogane-Holt family grows... but much earlier than anticipated.(Shidge Month Day 2: Shower)





	Arrival

A twinge of lower back pain drew Pidge out of her slumber. Her entire being ached from last night’s activities with her husband. She wouldn’t call that pain entirely unpleasant, save for that stupid pounding in her back. Might as well blame that on the baby, who Pidge swore grew heavier with each passing day.

Pidge cracked an eye open to glare at the clock, which read: 6:30 a.m. Judging by the scent of coffee downstairs as well as the time, Pidge deduced that Shiro was downstairs, just about to do his morning workout. She thought she’d worn him out last night, especially since Shiro kept joking that he struggled to keep up with her growing libido.

Apparently not.

“Ugh.” Pidge rested a hand on the swell of her belly, feeling her little one wriggle around. “You are killing me.”

Funny how she’d gone from panicking about having this baby to wanting them to vacate her womb. When was the last time she saw her own feet? Were they still there? Her brows furrowed as she tried to recall what it felt like before being heavily pregnant. Life without heartburn? What was that like?

A stringy water droplet splattered on Pidge’s cheek. Pidge didn’t dare roll over to her other side, where she would certainly see a slobbery tongue and thick white fur. “Thanks, Halley,” Pidge deadpanned as she wiped the drool off her face.

Halley barked in reply, then leapt over Pidge and on to the floor. She barked again — surely a reminder for Pidge to get up out of bed.

Pidge hauled herself into a sitting position, and slowly made her way to her feet. It helped that Halley stood close by as a counterbalance. While Pidge had tripped over Halley more times than she could count, the dog had also been there to stop her from falling even more than that. Halley also made a great footrest, which was a godsend for Pidge.

She slipped her swollen feet into a pair of oversized slippers and made her way downstairs and into the dining room, where her husband sat with a newspaper and mug in hand.

“You’re up early,” Shiro observed over a steaming mug of coffee. “Shouldn’t you be getting more rest?”

Pidge glared at Shiro through heavy eyelids. She’d kill for some coffee. Or anything to make her exhaustion vanish. She hadn’t felt this tired since the first trimester. _Hard to believe that was only, what?_ Pidge furrowed her brows in thought. _Two trimesters ago?_ She’d just started the last trimester of pregnancy about a week ago. “Easy for you to say when you can have coffee and don’t have a tiny human kicking you in the bladder all night long.” Of course, now that she mentioned it, she had to go _again_.

“I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”

With an irritated huff and no acknowledgment of her husband’s apology, Pidge attempted to storm off to the bathroom for what might’ve been the third time that morning. She’d given up keeping herself composed. Since she couldn’t walk normally anymore and therefore was unable to properly storm off, she slammed the door behind her for good measure. Not quite the effect she wanted, but it would suffice.

Halley followed Pidge like a shadow. The giant dog kept the distance between her and Pidge far enough so that Pidge wouldn’t stumble over her, but close enough to keep a watchful eye. It was no wonder that Halley growled and whined whenever her owner was home or when an obstacle separated Pidge from the loyal dog.

That being said, witnessing Halley howling and practically ramming herself against the bathroom door was a tad concerning but a humorous sight nonetheless.

Shiro heard a muffled “Shiro, wait your turn” come from the bathroom and couldn’t help but slip out a laugh at the poor dog. He cupped his hands around his mouth and called, “Halley, come!”

Halley, who knew this command and executed it without hesitation in almost every situation, stood firm. How could she possibly go over to Metalpaw when Peanut needed her? Couldn’t Metalpaw sense what was happening? She barked even louder and continued to tackle the door.

With Halley’s refusal to budge, Shiro took things into his own hands. He got up from the table to grab the dog by her scruff. He did so carefully, getting on her level so not to injure the dog by pulling her too hard, but he kept a firm grip on her. For as much as he loved Halley, he did not approve of her behavior, especially if she were to accidentally take down Pidge the moment the door opened. “No.”

Halley’s ears flattened against her skull as she let out a rather pathetic whine.

“I would not go in there if I were you,” Pidge warned as she opened the door a crack.

“Still, uh, backed up?” One of the less than stellar things about living with Pidge — as well as being married to her — was her lack of boundaries. And somehow, ever since they found out she was pregnant, the few boundaries she’d possessed vanished. This meant Pidge had no qualms about oversharing pregnancy symptoms — including the fact she’d been constipated for the last few days.

Though Shiro had to remind her to avoid this subject and related discussions around certain people — namely Hunk — he didn’t mind listening. She had a lot on her mind, so he kept an open ear and ask questions or comment or smile and nod as prompted. After all, Pidge was the one carrying his child, which put a lot of work on her end for the time being. Active listening was the very least he could do for her.

“The exact opposite of that,” she said. “I probably lost a couple pounds from that bathroom trip alone. Also, we should get more toilet paper. I don’t want to know what’s going on with me down there, but it’s pretty nasty. Trust me on that.”

Shiro took her word for it. “Thanks for the heads up.” He freed Halley from his hold. “By the way, she was the one who wanted into the bathroom, not me.”

Pidge reached down to pet Halley but couldn’t reach. “Curse my short arms,” she declared with a scowl. That phrase had become a household staple ever since Pidge couldn’t bend over properly anymore. Once something landed on the ground, it was in no-man’s land. Being as short and as pregnant as she was, nothing useful could be out of reach, as her huge stomach got in the way. As a result, Pidge found herself cursing her short arms with greater frequency. At least she had Halley, who could pick things up and “drop” items on command, and Shiro, who could reach just about anywhere. She rested one hand on the swell of her huge belly and the other on her lower back. “Kid, I want you out of here.”

Shiro, on his knees next to Halley, pressed his hand against his wife’s belly. Pidge took the hint and moved his hand up to the spot where the little one was currently wriggling around. “I am so ready to meet them.”

Pidge winced, though it wasn’t due to the baby’s movement. Her other hand joined the one rubbing her aching lower back. Funny, she should be used to her aching back by now, but it felt different this time. It felt like the same pain from this morning. Maybe a little worse?

Shiro pulled himself back up to his feet and looked to Pidge with the warmest smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you for doing this.”

For that one moment, Pidge forgot about her back pain and returned his smile. “You don’t have to. I chose to do this, and I’m glad I did.”

Though math wasn’t Shiro’s favorite or best subject, he excelled at calculating risk. Taking a risk, on the other hand, was a toss-up. It rarely went in his favor, but sometimes it was worth it. This particular risk didn’t need much calculation. “You’re right.” That sentence was always a good one to start with, especially when talking with Pidge. “I don’t have to, but I want to. Thank you, Katie.”

Heat rose to her face, which Pidge buried in Shiro’s chest. “You’re such a sap,” she mumbled into the fabric of his sweater. “Aren’t you supposed to take Halley for a walk or something?”

Laughter rumbled from beneath Pidge’s forehead. “Yeah, I am.” Shiro slipped a hand under her shirt and placed it against the small of her back. “You staying here?”

The cool metal soothing her aching back drew a moan out of Pidge. It distracted her from that stupid, throbbing pain. And damn, it felt _good._ “I’m too tired. Besides, I wouldn’t want to hold you and the furball back.”

“If you’re sure.” Shiro looked back down to Halley and spoke in the voice he reserved only for the dog and baby. “Want to go on a walk?”

Walk? Did someone say walk? Halley’s tail wagged fast enough to blur, then stopped. She nudged Peanut’s belly and whined. Something was wrong. Couldn’t Metalpaw tell Peanut was in pain?

“Come on, Halley, let’s walk. You love walks!”

Boy, did she ever love walks. It took every muscle to resist the call of the walk. Halley sat down and dug her claws into the carpet.

“I don’t think she wants to go — oh!” Pidge winced and clutched her belly.

“Pidge, are you alright?”

Ignoring all the alarms going off in her head, Pidge waved it off. “Just a cramp,” she said, voice weak. “Or false contractions. Doctor said those are normal. I’m going to have lots of those as we get closer to the due date.”

Shiro let out an unsteady breath. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

“Yeah.” Pidge wasn’t entirely sure, but if this was real labor, she’d know. There was no way real labor felt like menstrual cramps. It probably felt worse than that. Still, it didn’t make the cramping or back pain any less annoying. Maybe there was something that would help with this?

If anyone knew, it was probably Lance. The guy knew way too much about pregnancy and babies, but it made sense with all of his sisters and sisters-in-law and aunts and nieces and cousins and uncountable other relatives who had kids. He always had recommendations, which was why Pidge had five different kinds of cocoa butter and moisturizers on her nightstand. As Lance had told her, they wouldn’t get rid of stretch marks, but they did help soothe dry and itchy skin on her stomach. “Shiro, toss me my phone.”

Early on in their relationship, Shiro learned that tossing Pidge her phone was never a good idea. In fact, tossing Pidge anything was a bad idea. She’d scramble to catch the thrown item and usually would drop it. Though Shiro never would describe Pidge as clumsy — she wasn’t — he did worry about knocking her over. The pregnancy threw off her center of balance and made her fingers swell. For these reasons, he simply placed her cell phone in her outstretched hand. “What’re you doing?”

“Texting Lance to see if he has any suggestions. I mean, if I’m going to have more false contractions and back pain, I need something to help with that.” Her phone pinged. “He says he and Keith will meet us at Target.” Pidge groaned. “Why can’t Lance just tell me what thing to buy on amazon? Noooo, he has to tell me to actually go out and do something.”

“It’s probably because he hasn’t seen you in a while.”

Pidge snorted. “Bullshit. I went shopping with him a month ago for new clothes.”

“And an orgasmic pedicure,” Shiro added. “Your words, not mine.”

“It doesn’t take much for anything to feel like that. My feet are gross and swollen. I could step on a Lego without feeling it.”

Shiro put on puppy-dog eyes to rival even Halley’s. “You’ve never compared my foot massages to an orgasm.” Shiro slunk away toward the stairs.

“Where are you going?”

Shiro looked askance at Pidge. “I’m going to get you some of those clothes Lance got you before we go meet him.” With that, he bounded up the stairs. Within a couple of minutes, he returned with a handful of clothes and a slight frown. “The tags are still on these.”

“Yeah, because I haven’t worn them yet.”

Shiro handed the clothes off to his wife. “Come on, get dressed. I’m betting Lance is on his way.”

“I’m betting they’re already there since Keith is probably the one driving,” Pidge grumbled as she worked off her shirt.

Ignoring the snappiness in Pidge’s voice, Shiro coolly replied, “The more reason we have to get moving.”

Once Pidge was dressed, she and Shiro headed on over to the garage, only to be stopped by Halley, whose jowls were pulled back into a snarl. She stood in front of the door with her hackles raised.

“What is the matter with you, Halley?”

She barked at Metalpaw, then looked to Peanut. She nudged Peanut’s belly for emphasis. Why couldn’t he tell that she was hurting? That the little one was hurting? Could he not smell it? Sense it?

“Hey,” Pidge cooed. “It’s okay, Halley. Shiro and I will be back in a bit, I promise. Don’t worry, we’re fine.” Pidge and Shiro sidestepped past Halley, and before the dog could protest any further, the door slammed behind them.

Halley whimpered.

This was bad.

So very bad.

* * *

Keith greeted Pidge first in the aisles of Target: “Damn, Pidge, you look awful. Are you feeling alright? You’re kinda pale.”

God, did she look sick to everyone? She was fucking fine, give or take the false contractions _and_ the baby’s non-stop kicks. “I’m fine,” she hissed. “And I don’t feel alright. I feel like I’m a goddamn giant gas planet. Jupiter, probably.”

Keith looked like he was about to say something else, but Lance clapped a hand over Keith’s mouth. “Listen up, Keith. If Pidge says she’s fine, she’s fine.” Lance’s voice dropped to a whisper. “You don’t tell anyone, especially a pregnant lady, that they look awful. You go hang with Shiro, I’m going to help Pidge find a heating pad.”

Keith conceded to Lance. Damn the man for being reasonable. “Fine.”

Pidge flashed Lance a grateful smile. “Thank you so much. It’s not just Keith who’s been getting on my nerves. It’s Shiro, and everyone I walk by. I mean, it’s annoying that everyone wants to touch my belly, but I’m not your local Chinese restaurant’s Buddha statue, you know?”

Lance laughed. “Man, I don’t envy you that at all. So, you said you had back pain? Isn’t that something you’ve been dealing with for a while now?”

“Well, yeah,” she replied. “But this back pain is different.”

Lance cocked his head to the side. “Different how?”

“It’s…” Her brows furrowed in thought. “It comes in waves, and each wave gets progressively worse. On top of that, I swear, these stupid false contractions are like the worst period cramps, and they aren’t going away. And I could’ve sworn that the baby feels like they’ve moved to a different spot, and there’s this weird downward pressure.” She groaned. “And it is killing my hips and bladder.”

“Pidge, I think you might be in labor.”

Pidge shot Lance an icy glare. “If were in labor — and I’m _not,_ ” she said with an indignant huff. “I’m the pregnant one here. I would know.” Taking a shaky breath through a cramp, she continued. “It’s the middle of January. I’m not due until April, which is months from now.” She emphasized “months” through gritted teeth.

“Listen. You’ve been complaining about back pain. Like, really low back pain. And let’s see, cramps that are getting worse, and you said it felt like the baby shifted lower. At the very least, let’s get you to a hospital.”

“I’m fine. I’ll walk it off.” With both hands pressed against her aching back, Pidge waddled a few steps away, then leaned against a shelf in the aisle. “See? All better.” A sharp pain spiked across her abdomen. To make matters worse, the fabric of Pidge’s pants darkened with a gush of liquid. At first, she thought she’d just pissed herself in public. She fought to stop it, but it kept flowing out of her.

The truth of what had just happened hit her with the force of ten freight trains: Her water broke. “Oh, _shit_.” Her quiet declaration was loud enough for Lance to pick up on. Or so Pidge thought, judging by Lance’s wide-eyed stare. “Lance, get Shiro. Now.”

Lance made no smart-alecky comment but instead, a break for it, running as fast as his long legs could carry him.

Pidge leaned back against the shelf, riding out the contraction as she waited for help to arrive.

* * *

Sure enough, help arrived. Shiro scooped his wife up into his arms, much to her annoyance. “I am capable of walking,” she snapped.

Lance shut her down. “Walking helps speed up labor,” he said. “Trust me, I’ve got sisters and sisters-in-law who would tell you the same thing. We need to get you to a hospital. Which one have you been going to?”

Pidge rested her head against Shiro’s chest, listening to his heart race at lightning speed.

“We haven’t been going to a hospital,” Shiro said, voice thick with worry. “Pidge and I have been in touch with a midwife who works at a birthing center.”

“Maybe we should call her before going to the hospital?” Pidge suggested. Shiro’s heartbeat slowed a tick or two.

Lance shook his head. “I don’t think those places are equipped for a premature baby. I think it’s best we drive to the nearest hospital.”

“Lance is right.” Everyone looked at Keith, who had stayed silent up until this point. “Listen,” Keith continued. “I’ll drive. Shiro and Lance can sit in the back with Pidge. That way Shiro can call this midwife and Lance can help Pidge—” he paused in attempt to think of the right phrase. “—do whatever it is she needs to do.” Keith pointed to the parking lot. “Lance and I parked next to you guys.”

Pride rose in Shiro’s chest. Keith had never wanted to be the leader, but this was the leader he’d hoped his closest friend would’ve been years ago.

“Uh, I hate to burst your bubble, Keith,” Lance said. “But you just redid the upholstery in our car.”

Keith folded his arms across his chest. “Yeah, so?”

Wrapping a lanky arm around Keith’s shoulder, Lance dropped his voice to a low murmur. “Listen, I’ve been there for every one of my sisters’ births. It’s bloody and messy, and I’m just saying, unless you want more of Pidge’s amniotic fluid spilling all over the backseat—”

A pale green colored Keith’s cheeks. “Okay, I get it. Thanks for that lovely picture, Lance.” He looked to Shiro. “Is it okay if we take your car?”

Pidge groaned. “I don’t fucking care which car we take. Let’s go.”

That, at the very least, drew a chuckle out of everyone else, despite the less than ideal situation.

* * *

In a futile attempt to ignore the worsening contractions and the fact the midwife had told Shiro to get to a hospital immediately, Pidge reminded herself to thank Shiro for pulling together a birth bag not even a week after she’d found out she was pregnant. At the time, she’d thought he was overreacting and overdoing it, but clearly that had not been the case.

Her grateful thoughts, however, were at odds with the profanities she spat out between contractions. “I’m _never_ going to let you stick your dick in me again, Takashi Shirogane.”

Lance stifled his laughter behind his hand. That was probably one of the less colorful things that Pidge had said en route to the hospital. Still, Lance couldn’t help but admire his friend. Shiro took Pidge’s curses like a champ. Not only that, but her grip, too.

Pidge crushed Lance’s hand when a contraction started, and her iron grip loosened as she rode it out. He’d slipped free, however, to help her with breathing exercises. The poor woman hadn’t gotten around to schedule a Lamaze class, so this was all uncharted territory for her.

But Shiro played clean with Pidge. He could’ve given her his prosthetic to hold, but no, he offered her his real hand, the one that felt pain. Not once did Lance see Shiro wince as Pidge’s pale knuckles turned white. How did he do that?

Though Shiro appeared composed to Lance, the man was anything but. His heart hammered against his ribcage at the speed of light. He followed Lance’s breathing technique. Sure, it was meant for people experiencing childbirth, but it kept him a tad steadier. God, if he felt this scared, how on earth was Pidge doing this?

Pidge’s grip tightened on his hand, prompting Shiro to talk. “You’re doing great, Katie.” His words came out a little shakier than he would’ve liked. “Hang in there.” His metallic hand wiped some sweat off Pidge’s forehead.

Shiro’s cool touch was a welcome sensation. Nodding, Pidge forced a pained smile and hissed an exhale through gritted teeth. “It hurts,” she whimpered, blinking back tears. “It hurts.” She knew this would hurt, but she’d thought it couldn’t be that bad. Mammals on Earth had given birth for thousands upon thousands of years. Hell, some alien species had done it for millennia!

From an evolutionary perspective, it _shouldn’t_ be this painful. But now that Pidge knew it was, then why the _fuck_ did people keep putting themselves through this? How did her mother do this with two children? _That’s it! Mom!_ She knew she’d forgotten something.

“Shiro?”

“Yes?”

“Call my mom when we’re at the hospital. I want her there.”

Shiro couldn’t tell if Pidge was asking or commanding him. Not that it mattered. “Of course. Shouldn’t be much longer now.”

“Don’t worry about calling her,” Lance said. “I’m texting her and Hunk right now.”

* * *

Flickering fluorescent lights bright enough to blind someone for minutes. Masked strangers in scrubs carrying strange equipment. Hushed whispers of almost foreign words and phrases. The scent of sanitizer and powerful cleaning supplies.

Shiro didn’t want to go back here. Not again. Not ever again. But Katie… they had her.

“—gane, I need you to fill out this paperwork since your wife isn’t scheduled for a delivery.”

He fixed his gaze on the hall a couple of nurses rushed Pidge down only minutes ago. Was she going to be okay? Was the baby going to be alright? “She’s in labor, the baby, it’s too early.”

“Sir, I need you to calm down and fill this out.”

“Katie. I need to find Katie.”

“You can see her once you fill out this paperwork. When was the baby due?”

“April 13.” That unwavering voice didn’t come out of Shiro’s mouth. It’s Keith. “Katie Holt is 26 years old. Her birthday is April 3, blood type A. No latex allergies, just seasonal and pollen.”

Shiro’s face went blank with shock. How did Keith know all that?

“You talk about Pidge and the baby a lot more than you’re aware of,” Keith said. “Now get out of here and be there for Pidge.”

* * *

“Push.”

“Shiro—”

“Push.”

“I can’t.”

“Katie, you need to push.”

“Shiro…”

“Push!”

“Good. Again.”

“Another one, just like that.”

“Shiro!”

“There’s the head!”

“Wait, the umbilical—"

“One last push, one big one.”

Pidge’s scream enters the room—

“—cord’s wrapped—”

—and so does the baby.

“It’s—”

White gloves stained with red.

“—around her neck—”

“Why isn’t she crying?”

“—it’s suffocating her.”

Scissors gleamed. _Snip. Snip. Snip._

“Shouldn’t she be crying?”

“CPR, stat.”

“Give her to me!”

A feeble mew, barely a cry.

Shaky, relieved breaths.

“She’s breathing.”

“Good. Prepare feeding—”

“NICU. Now.”

“—tube and CPAP.”

“Where are they taking her?”

“Katie, you need to calm down.”

“No! That’s my baby!”

“Katie, please—”

“Give her to me.”

“Ma’am, I’m afraid we can’t do that right now.”

“I want my baby.”

“You can see her once you’ve calmed down and recovered.”

“I can’t be calm when I don’t even know where you’ve taken her! I don’t know if she’s alive or is going to be okay or—” Pidge’s speech began to slur and her eyelids droop.

“Pidge?” Shiro found his voice. “Pidge?”

No response.

He whirled around on a doctor standing next to her IV bag. “What did you do to her?” Shiro grabbed the man by his bony shoulders. Breaking a man’s clavicle was a simple feat, and Shiro could do it in seconds.

“Mr. Shirogane, she will be fine. After such a traumatic delivery, she needs rest.” The doctor cried out in pain as Shiro’s grip tightened on him. “I gave her a sedative to help her rest and relax.”

Shiro’s entire being shook with fear and rage. He clamped down on the doctor’s shoulders.

“Mr. Shirogane, please,” the doctor whimpered.

“Give me one reason I shouldn’t end you right here,” Shiro snarled, tightening his grip. “Just one.” He felt a pinprick in his side, and everything went black.

* * *

Shiro came to his senses slowly. His head felt like someone stuffed it full of cotton. He pressed a hand against his forehead. He blinked owlishly, trying to figure out where he was sitting. The hospital’s lights hurt his eyes.

“Hey, Shiro. It’s Hunk.”

What was Hunk doing here?

“I brought you some water and snacks, but just to warn you, I don’t know how they’ll react with that sedative you were given.”

“Sedative?”

Hunk nodded. “Sedative might be a bit weak of a term. From what I heard the nurses saying, it was more like a tranquilizer dart.” He handed Shiro a bottle of water.

Shiro twisted the cap off the bottle and drank like someone who’d been stranded on a desert for years. It helped clear his head. “Oh my God,” Shiro groaned. “I had a panic attack and almost maimed a doctor.”

“If it’s any consolation, he’s not pressing charges.”

Consolation? _I don’t deserve that_ , Shiro thought. Not just for attacking a doctor. Worse than that, he’d left his wife alone. And he had no idea where they’d taken their baby. “How’s Pidge?”

Hunk gave a half-shrug. “I don’t know. Doctors have spent the last few hours cleaning her up. The birth took a toll on her. But they aren’t letting anyone in to see her yet.”

“And the baby?”

“I don’t know,” Hunk admitted. “They won’t let anyone except close family know what’s going on there, which is ridiculous because I’d say that the Paladins are close family. But I guess not by hospital standards. Matt and Colleen would be the ones to ask.”

Shiro’s heart sank. What would they think of him, leaving Pidge all by herself? Colleen probably knew by now he was a lousy husband; worse yet, a lousy father who doesn’t even know where his own kid is at. Matt was a bit tougher of a read, but Shiro’s friend had to be pissed at him for ditching his kid sister. “Where are the Holts? And where are we, exactly?”

“You and I are in a waiting room. Keith, Lance, and I told staff that you needed a less hospital-y environment. As for Matt and Colleen, they’re either sitting in front of Pidge’s maternity suite—they’re going to move Pidge to it once she’s stitched back together again and is cleaned up—or trying to talk the NICU nurses into letting them see the baby.” Hunk’s phone went off. “I take that back. Matt says he’s coming our way.”

Shiro swallowed the lump building up in his throat. He’d have to face the Holts eventually. Better sooner than later.

Matt entered the room with a blank expression and his mother at his heels. “Hey, Shiro,” he said. “How are you doing?”

Shiro forced a weak smile. “I’ve been better.”

“I think we all have,” Colleen said, dabbing at a tear with a tissue. She slid into the chair next to Shiro, and Matt sat next to her. Colleen took Shiro’s hand into her own and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Congrats, Dad.”

“Thanks, I guess.” The last thing Shiro wanted to do was celebrate. What should’ve been a joyous, momentous occasion was the exact opposite. Today felt more like a funeral than the day his child was born. Maybe there’d be one of those on the horizon.

“Matt and I talked to the NICU nurses,” Colleen said. “I don’t know how much you know or remember.”

“It’s all a blur,” Shiro admitted. “Being in that room brought back—” he paused in search of the right word. “—I wouldn’t call them memories or flashbacks. The situation triggered something, though.”

Colleen’s grip tightened a little, just enough to reassure Shiro. “It’s a girl.”

A girl. He and Pidge had a daughter.

A sly grin slipped onto Hunk’s face. “Well, Shiro, it sounds like you and Lance owe Keith some cash.”

“And the bad news?”

Matt and Colleen locked eyes, their expressions equally somber.

“What? What is it?”

Matt tore his gaze away from his mother’s and focused it on the clock hanging on the wall across from him. “On top of being born premature, the umbilical cord somehow got wrapped around her neck. It nearly strangled her. Nearly killed her.”

“Is she—” Shiro couldn’t bring himself to say the either of the words “alive” or “dead.”

“She’s stable for now,” Colleen said. “I haven’t seen her. But I’ve been told she’s in some sort of incubation tank and on a feeding and breathing tube. That’s pretty common for babies born this early.”

Shiro closed his eyes and heaved a shaky sigh. If only he’d paid closer attention to her symptoms. If only he’d attended one, just one, doctor visit, he would’ve known Pidge was experiencing real labor symptoms. If only he could remember what the Galra had done to him in their labs. Maybe they’d done something that altered or mutated his sperm. If only he knew that much, he could’ve been prepared for this. _This is all my fault._

* * *

_This is all my fault._ Unbeknownst to Pidge, Shiro’s thoughts were her thoughts.

Pidge, now half-awake, lay in her hospital bed, staring at the ceiling. Thoughts of self-loathing and blame consumed her. She shouldn’t be a mother. Didn’t deserve to be a mother. What sort of mother ignores contractions and mistakes them for kicks and Braxton-Hicks? Not a good one, that was for sure.

The nurses and doctors probably thought the same thing. It explained why they refused to let her see her baby. Pidge ran her hands over her still-swollen belly that was no longer housing a child. Her innards must’ve been unwelcoming, maybe even toxic, to an unborn baby. Or maybe it happened because she’d said that she wanted the baby out. Not that it mattered. Either way, her body failed her daughter. Couldn’t even keep her in there for one last trimester.

And Shiro. He probably didn’t want to see her ever again. It explained why he vanished the moment she passed out. She didn’t blame him for that, really. It was her fault this happened. All of it.

A knock on the door drew Pidge out from her mind. “Katie, are you feeling up to having visitors?”

 _No._ “Sure.” She pushed herself upright and readjusted her hideous hospital-issued gown. Hopefully whoever it was wouldn’t judge her for her sweatiness, unkempt hair and leaking boobs staining the backless gown.

The door swung open, and the first people to enter were Matt and Colleen.

Matt pulled up a chair next to his sister. “Hey, Pidge.”

She acknowledged her brother with a barely audible “hey,” only to be crushed in her mother’s embrace. Pidge closed her eyes, taking in her mother’s warmth and love. When she opened them again, there were more bodies, more arms wrapped around her in a tight group hug.

She saw the gleam of Allura’s perfect skin and arms, felt the coolness of Shay’s and her and Hunk’s hatchlings’ scales, and the warmth from the shared bond of the rest of the Paladins, save for one.

Shiro.

Tears blurred Pidge’s vision. She blinked them back with minimal success. “Sorry, it’s been a really rough day.” She smeared them across her face and only cried harder.

“Rough?” Hunk jiggled with laughter. “If that’s rough for you, I don’t want to know what’s worse than rough.” He blushed lightly and cleared his throat. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” He scratched the nape of his neck. “Um, well, while you’re in the hospital, let me know if there’s anything you want to eat. Hospital food is gross —”

Hunk and Shay’s four hatchlings nodded in agreement. While they weren’t biologically related to their father, they did share his taste buds. Pidge still wasn’t sure how they were even related to Shay per se.

As it turned out, Balmerans reproduced asexually. It was the Balmera that brought them to life, shoving crystalline eggs through its surface to a bonded pair of Balmerans. From what Hunk had explained to the Paladins, a bonded pair was more or less the equivalent of a married couple. The Balmera would bless bonded Balmerans with a single egg upon a prayer during a certain festival. Occasionally, bonded Balmerans might receive more two eggs, which indicated favor with the new parents.

The Balmera thought highly of Hunk and Shay, blessing them with not one or two or even three, but four eggs at once. As far as Balmeran history went, such a feat had never been recorded until now.

While the Paladins said it was probably because Hunk and Shay saved the Balmera from near death, Hunk simply laughed it off and would say, “It’s because I give it the best scratches.”

“Trust me, I’ve been in the cafeteria at least twice, and it needs Jesus — so if there’s anything you want at all, let me know, alright?”

Before Pidge could reply to Hunk’s generous offer, Lance butted in. “I brought you something.” He placed the sack next on the hospital bed’s tray. “Go ahead, open it.”

She dumped its contents and gasped.

A knitted green cap and a crotched blanket with patterns of black and green lions weaved into its fabric spilled onto her lap.

“What is it?” Hodge, one of the hatchlings, asked.

Pidge couldn’t tell the hatchlings apart quite yet with the exception of Hodge, who looked a bit like a pirate, as Hodge had one of the sort-of earrings female Balmerans had on one ear but lacked an earring on the other. Going off of what Hunk had said, Hodge was a rough equivalent of an intersex human.

At first, Hunk had said he worried Hodge would be bullied for it, but the Balmerans celebrated it. Balmerans believed that lacking any sex meant that particular Balmeran had a different connection to the Balmera than most.

“Gifts for the baby,” Lance said. “It’s a hat and a blanket. It helps keep the baby warm.”

There was a collective “ooooooh,” from the aliens in the room.

“It is most precious!” Shay exclaimed.

Allura showed her agreement with Shay with a nod. “I helped Lance come up with the blanket’s design, and he did the rest.”

“It is a pity we never had that baby shower for you,” Coran said as he twisted the end of his mustache. “Lance had started planning a huge party with all these games and for some reason it involved blindfolding you?”

Lance slid a hand down his face. “Because it was supposed to be a surprise!”

“It’s fine,” Pidge said quietly. “This is…” she trailed off, searching for a word. Any word.

“Perfect. It’s perfect.”

“Except it’s not,” Keith murmured. “Shiro’s not here.”

Silence fell upon the room like a London fog: Thick, heavy, and nearly impossible to penetrate.

“But,” Keith continued. “He’s waiting for you outside the NICU.”

Of course the former Blade of Marmora member would be the only one able to cut through the silence and grief.

Shiro was here. He wasn’t in the room right now, but he was _here._ Here and waiting for her. “When can I see him?”

A rusty set of wheels squeaked into the room with a nurse at its helm. “You and your husband can see your daughter now if you’d like. Are you ready?”

 _No._ “Yes,” Pidge choked out. “Yes.”

The nurse helped Pidge step out of the bed and into the wheelchair. As she pushed Pidge out of the room, Pidge turned her head and managed a teary “thank you” to her family, blood and found.

* * *

Shiro blew his white tuft of hair away from his face. Maybe it was his imagination, but was it even whiter than before? He ran a hand through the rest of his hair. Today’s stress alone might’ve been enough to make all of it go white.

He shook the thought out of his head. Now wasn’t the time to worry about his hair losing what little color it had left. No. He had bigger, more important things to worry about. Pidge. His daughter.

Flesh touched flesh.

Shiro, so lost in his own thoughts, almost failed to notice Pidge’s hand taking his own.

“Are you going to be alright?” Pidge rasped. Her voice sounded hoarse, like she’d strained it. Perhaps she had.

Shame overcame Shiro. Did Pidge think he’d have a panic attack in the NICU? That he’d hurt sickly little infants? “I’ll be fine,” he said, hoping he sounded confident. “Bridgette here — ” Shiro tilted his head to the nurse behind the wheelchair —  “gave me something like Xanax about half an hour ago. I’m feeling much calmer than before.”

“I’m glad.”

The couple kept up their small talk as Bridgette pushed Pidge along. Shiro stayed at Pidge’s side, still holding her hand. He focused on Pidge: the bags under her red-rimmed eyes, her messy hair, her raw voice.

Better to ground himself with her presence than to throw himself into a panicked frenzy at sights around him.

The NICU was like another planet with the shrill cries of sickly infants, the beeping machines, incubators hooked up to wires and IVs. Nurses and doctors spoke swiftly, quietly, in tongues neither Shiro nor Pidge understood but hoped they would be able to understand at some point— not that they had ever wanted to speak this language or visit this place.

“Alright, here she is.” Bridgette rolled Pidge up close to the incubator that engulfed her daughter. “All three pounds and two ounces of her bundled up in this isolette.”

A million questions ran through Pidge’s mind at once but not even one slipped through her lips. She pressed her forehead against the isolette’s see-through wall, as close as she could get to touching this tiny, wrinkly creature.

She had a shock of black hair atop her head, the same color as her daddy’s had once been before Kerberos, before Voltron. Her barely open eyes were blue, like most newborns, eventually they’d change to their true color. Unless, of course, her eyes were blue.

Pidge tried not to look at her daughter’s mouth and nose but with the wires and tubes covering them, it was impossible to _not_ look. Her little chest rose and fell, almost caving in with each exhale, making Pidge fear there would be a moment that she wouldn’t take another breath.

Shiro attempted to muffle a sob with his metal hand. “She’s so little,” he said in a voice that, too, was so little. The former Black Paladin’s authority evaporated with that one sentence, as did his composure. He wept for his daughter, for Pidge, for his family.

Pidge’s own tears and breath fogged up the outside of the isolette. But it wasn’t just from grief, from depression, from hurt. Pidge found her voice, still hoarse but this time, raw with determination: “Sammy. Her name is Sammy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let's be real. It wouldn't be one of my fics without angst.
> 
> Also, this has a sort-of baby shower in it, so it counts for shidge month day 2. :P


End file.
